Pervade and Faint

Chapter 34

As I descended the stairs for breakfast, a sensation of physical relief ran through my body via my feet. It didn't take me long to realize what it was. The carpet had been changed to chocolate brown, with a satisfying softness. And its softness was only to be relished barefoot, which I was by then.

After sitting idle in the living room for a while, the door opened, revealing auntie Shama. Instead of going into the kitchen, like usual, she came straight to me and sat beside me, on the sofa.
"Good morning", she said and smiled genially.
"I found him", I blunted, in lieu of saying hello or good morning.
"Who?" she asked, with a stern expression manifested on her face.
"27", I answered. Auntie Shama narrowed her brows, trying to comprehend what I ha said.
"You found him?" she asked, a bit addled.
"Well, a friend helped me _ but, yes, I found him", I said. Auntie Shama took a deep breath, and I didn't know whether it was if relief or anxiety.
"And I'm going today", I confirmed, with great aplomb. I doubted that auntie Shama didn't believe me because the expressions on her face were still dense.
"You don't believe me?" I asked.
"No no, it's not that. I believe you", she said and shifted her gaze to the floor, a reminiscent of Sophia.
"I'm sorry that I gave you such an onerous task. You're supposed to be on a vacation and now _ "
"I can't take a breath of peace without her", I said interfered. There was a short pause. Auntie Shama looked at me, her eyes showing that even she can't take a breath of peace without Sophia.
"And I'm going to bring her, no matter what it takes", I announced.
Auntie Shama held my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Where is she?" she asked.

I explained everything to her, at least whatever I knew, probably not ample, but not even subtle. Auntie Shama listened carefully. Her eyes reflected a strong beam of hatred when she saw the picture of Latif Bagri. She couldn't look at his picture for more than a second. A pool of tears disgorged from her eyes.

"Everything will be okay", I assured, wondering whether my own words would even prove to be true.
"But I'm going to need some help", I said.
Auntie Shama ripped the necklace off of her neck in a split of a second. Then, she took of her ring and handed it to me.
"I'll see what else I can arrange", she said. With the gold in my hand, I was frustrated. What I meant by help wasn't exactly money.
"I actually don't need money", I explained and reimbursed her things.
"Keep them anyways", she said, but I still returned them.
"I'm going to need a car and a _ ", I was about to express my requirements, but dad emerged from behind.
"You should have woke me up", he said. Auntie Shama stood up as soon as she saw him. Not because of fear. But respect for elders. A typical and ingrained, good habit of the positive people. Sophia told me that a long time ago, that you stand up when you see an elder, even if there is already space for him or her to sit. And you embrace when it's a relative or elder. (The idea of embracing seemed pretty vile for me).For the sake of humanity, respect and chivalry.
Dad coughed profusely and auntie Shama ran in the kitchen to get him a glass of water. A wave of remorse hit me. I should have been the one doing that, I thought and repented. I took dad's hand and sat him in the sofa.
"Thank you", he said, but I didn't to know whether he thanked me or auntie Shama for the water. But as Sophia used to say.
'Just do it for the sake of it to be done'. Her words lingered in my mind for a while, but forever in my heart.
Dad ate in silence, a perennial habit of his. Auntie Shama left after a few minutes, claiming that she was getting late.

"Dad, are you okay?" I asked after he was done with his breakfast. He looked at me enigmatically.
"Not much, why?" he asked.
"I was just worried about you", I answered, candidly.
"I'm fine, just a normal cough", he said and coughed again.
"Should I make tea for you?" I offered and once again, he looked at me, surprised.
"Okay, but do you know how to?" he said.
"Yeah yeah", I answered, with much confidence. I wasn't even sure whether I knew how to make tea or not. He raised both of his eyebrows and I didn't even know that he also knew how to do that.
"Okay then", he answered and reclined in the sofa.
"Just a minute", I said and headed towards the kitchen.

I stood there for a minute and contemplated whether I should have confessed earlier that I didn't really know to make tea. However, with the fundamental steps, I was aware. Resultantly, I took out the sauce pan, sugar and milk. I stared at them for a good minute, as I was confronting them for the first time in my life, perhaps. I waited for a miracle to happen.

"Everything good?" asked dad, as he was made a sudden arrival to the kitchen.
"Yeah", I answered, and took another miserable look at the mess I had created. Dad turned on the stove. So that's the actual, first step, I thought and scratched the back of my neck, abashed. Dad looked at me and smiled. An ocean of happiness flowed in me, as soon as I saw a smile across his face.
Dad and I, together, had our tea in the kitchen. Mom used to like her tea in the kitchen for some reason. But dad didn't. Still, we had tea in the kitchen.

"Take the day off", I suggested and put my cup into the sink. Dad had put it two minutes before I had. He was a fast drinker when it came to hot drinks, especially tea.
"It's okay, I'll go", he said and walked towards the living room.
"What if I drop you off?" I offered.
"No, it's okay. Do you need anything?" he asked, as he suspected a strand of urge in my voice.
"No _ well, yeah. The car", I stammered.
"Here", he said and offered me the key abruptly, which just astonished me.
"I didn't mean_"
"It's okay, Qurashi will drop me", said dad and grabbed his jacket. I helped him with his jacket.
"I'll drop you", I said and looked at the key, a bit addled.
__________

Dad's office wasn't as close as I had been anticipating. It was a nine mile drive (which is fourteen and a half kilometers). Miles wasn't the common term used in Pakistan, only kilometers.

Dad told me to pick him up at five. He said that he didn't want to work till seven because he wasn't quite well. And I promised to be there in time.

After dropping dad, I parked the car at the side of the road and activated my GPS. I punched in the directions to Latif Bagri's house. It was at a distance of thirty five miles, almost fifty six kilometers. When Google maps got activated, I took a deep breath. With a heavy encumbrance on me, I took off, on the bumpiest ride of my life.